


The Watcher

by itzteegan



Series: Kinktober 2019 [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: AO3 FB Challenge, Deacon likes to watch, F/M, Kinktober, Kinktober 2019, Masturbation, Multi, Oral Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Porn, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Voyeur Deacon, Voyeurism, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 12:22:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20866166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzteegan/pseuds/itzteegan
Summary: Deacon has always watched Violet, from the moment she emerged from the Vault to her work as General of the Minutemen and beyond. Even and especially when she gets involved with John Hancock.





	The Watcher

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 2: Voyeurism

Hefting the rifle, Deacon peered through the scope, keeping track of his target through the wilderness outside of old Boston. She and her companion – Mayor Hancock of all people – were settling down for the night, having cleared out an old cabin for shelter. They had set up a couple of perimeter defences – and _holy shit, how did she carry enough junk for a few turrets with her?__ – _before digging in to some canned food for dinner. So, business as usual, though between the turrets and the lack of cover, that meant he had to keep more of a distance between them for the night than he usually did.

But no matter. That had been how it always was between him and Violet, from the first moment he'd laid eyes on her.

He'd been camping out north of Concord after doing some recon work on the Switchboard. Normally, he wouldn't have gone so far out of his way, but a couple of synths had detected him and given chase, and he'd figured better to head for wilderness than the ruins of the city, infested with raiders and super mutants who _also_ wanted to kill him. He'd managed to lose them finally, but his paranoia had pushed him to move further, just to make sure he'd shaken them off. He'd found a nice spot just above an old, abandoned settlement, and he'd settled into a rickety chair to try to catch a few z's before he headed back to HQ.

So when he was startled awake a few hours later to the loud whir and grind of machinery, he'd whipped his head up, heart pounding, wondering for a moment if the synths had finally caught up to him, even though no synth he knew made sounds like that. When his heart settled down and his brain started catching up to the situation, he realised that it was some sort of lift from an adjacent hill. Slinking out of his chair, he knelt behind the crate beside him that made a makeshift table and waited to see what was happening before he decided if he needed to haul ass again. And when the lift finally finished its ascent, he saw about the last thing he expected to see.

A figure dressed in blue – in that unmistakeable Vault-Tec blue – stumbled off of the platform, coughing and looking around, wide-eyed like she was seeing the world for the first time. Shit, he hadn’t realised there had been a Vault there, and if that was where she was from, it was no wonder she looked like a lost kitten, gasping as she took in the view around her. He was half-tempted to follow her as she made her way down the hill, to offer her some sort of help, but one glance at the sky told him that he’d wasted enough time already and that he was expected at HQ. Had she been a normal wastelander, that would have been one thing. But he didn’t have the time to teach a Vault dweller what she needed to know and he couldn’t risk taking her with him and exposing the Railroad to someone so unknown.

Still, he kept an eye on her. By the time he’d reported in to HQ and made it to Diamond City, she was already there. Not only there, but fairly well equipped, it would seem, if the armour and pistol she carried was any indication. Rumours followed her, whispers swirling to serve as some explanation for the strange Vault dweller’s appearance.

“Heard she saved a group of settlers up in Concord.”

“Is that her? She’s the new Minutemen General, then?”

“That’s the word, at least.”

“Rose through the ranks rather quickly. You sure it’s deserved?”

“Heh. Not any ranks _left_ to rise through, you ask me. Might as well make her General, if she’s gonna pull everything together.”

“Give it a couple of months and it’ll be another wash out, you’ll see.”

But she didn’t wash out. Instead, since he had the opportunity, Deacon started tailing her, and when he did he found what an intriguing person he’d happened upon. She helped settlements with their raider problems, with their super mutant problems. She set up new settlements and supplied with them everything they’d need to have a good start. And when she lead the attack to retake the Castle, he was right there, sniper rifle in hand, observing through the scope much as he was doing now, watching her in action. She was an extraordinary woman, bound and determined at whatever task she put her mind to, and Deacon wondered if perhaps she wouldn’t shine best in the Railroad. For now, though, he simply watched and waited, weighing her ethics to figure out if she would work with them rather than betray them. He could take no chances, not after the Switchboard, and so his watch continued.

And it seemed like his watch was about to get a whole lot more interesting, because instead of just bedding down for the night, Violet and Hancock seemed interested in more carnal activities.

At first, he looked away, swallowing hard, wondering if he was intruding on their privacy too much. But before he could help himself, he was looking back through the scope, watching as Violet straddled Hancocks lap while they made out like a couple of horny teenagers. Hancock’s hands roamed, initially tangling in her hair until they gripped her ass, squeezing as her hips rocked gently into his. The dry humping was mutual, it seemed, and as they kept it up, Deacon half-wondered if that’s all they would do for the night.

Knowing Hancock, however, he really should have known better.

It wasn’t but several minutes until Violet was stripped and Hancock was half naked, sporting only his pants, his boots, and his ridiculous hat. He’d laid her out on the floor, on top of the sleep pack, and when he buried his face in between her legs, Deacon could only thank whatever god might exist that his scope was excellent because he could see the lovely expression on Violet’s face as it twisted in ecstasy, back arching against the sleep pack as Hancock went to work. He gulped again, wondered once more if he should turn away, give them their privacy, but the growing hardness in his own pants offered another solution. They didn’t know he was there, after all, and he wasn’t about to disturb them. Shit, he’d been following them throughout this damn wasteland, and if they could let off a little steam with each other, he was about to follow suit.

He dropped his rifle for just a moment, just long enough to work his dick out of his pants before he picked it up again and peered through it. Hancock was still in between her legs eating her out, and as Deacon began to stroke himself, he wondered how she tasted, how she would feel squirming beneath his own tongue. He couldn’t hear anything, not from the distance he was currently at – and he didn’t dare risk getting any closer – but he imagined what she might sound like. She didn’t seem the type to let loose any high-pitched, exaggerated, pornographic squeaks like some. No, by his reckoning, her style was more low, breathy moans and gasps interspersed with whimpers and pleas. He would have loved to actually hear her, but his imagination was pretty good, and between that, the visual, and his hand on his dick, he was definitely gonna get there. Especially with the way she threw her head back, her mouth forming that telltale ‘o’ shape that meant she had just come. Thank fuck for long range scopes, because even with how far away he was, he could see how her legs trembled, how shiny tracks of tears made their way down her cheeks from the intensity. Never let it be said that Hancock didn’t know what he was doing.

Speaking of, the Mayor wasn’t about to be left out of the fun, as he lowered his pants enough to get his dick out before he slid home, and Deacon let out a soft groan as his hand twisted around his cock. It had been too long since he’d jacked off, longer still since he’d been with anyone. With how dangerous his life was, he couldn’t afford to be as carefree with his dalliances, and so he just went without. And it showed with how close he was, how he had to forcefully slow himself down so he wouldn’t come so quickly. But with how good Violet looked getting fucked, there was only so much a man could do, and before Hancock even spilled his load, Deacon was coming in spurts on the dusty wasteland ground, breath thundering through him.

Deacon took a moment to take stock of himself, to clear his throat and wipe his hands off on some nearby plant life before he tucked his softened member back in his pants and zipped up. Screw some water, he needed a nice, hard drink after that, and so he uncorked a bottle of whiskey and took a couple of sips, feeling the burn as it made a path right down into his stomach. He didn’t pick the rifle back up right away, needing a little time to come down from that high, and by the time he did, it seemed both Violet and Hancock had finished their fun and had settled in for the night, Hancock wrapping up the former Vault dweller in his arms as they both drifted to sleep. An ache tugged in the centre of his chest, but he pushed it aside. He’d given that kind of thing up for a higher purpose, something fulfilling that he could look back on and say that his life was worth it, that he’d made a difference. Anything to make up for his past mistakes. And what Violet and Hancock had, it just wasn’t for him, no matter how much he might secretly want it. When he was satisfied that they were both asleep and both safe, he tucked away his rifle and bedded down for the night, himself, folding his arms across his chest as he drifted off, allowing himself only a moment to remember what it had been like to hold a woman as he fell asleep. If he tried, he could almost smell the homemade soap that Barbara used for her hair, but it was only for that moment, and then he was asleep.

The sun woke him up the next morning, piercing through his eyelids as he squinted and blinked and tried to reorient himself. When he remembered, he scrambled for his rifle and peered through the scope, but he was already too late. Violet and Hancock had moved on, packing up the turrets and cleaning up their little campsite so well, it almost looked like it was still undisturbed. As he drew near, however, Deacon could find little things off, little signs that indicated a recent presence, and a distinct trail to follow, as inconspicuous as it was to the untrained eye.

Deacon grinned as he shouldered his pack and began to follow their path. That had been how it always was between him and Violet, from the moment they’d met up until now. And perhaps one day it would be different, but for now, he was just the watcher.


End file.
